


Long Gone

by BeanzBeanzGir



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Cute, Death, Eddie - Freeform, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Reddie, Richie - Freeform, Sad, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeanzBeanzGir/pseuds/BeanzBeanzGir
Summary: When Richie begins to have horribly vivid dreams of the man he loves, Eddie-or a version of Eddie, starts to appear.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 8





	Long Gone

**Author's Note:**

> A little sad but enjoy

A bright white light was all he could see, it blinded him and made him want to close his eyes, but he couldn’t. It was like his eyes were fixated on something, the light? The circle of white in the distance appeared to grow larger, gradually rising like the sun over the deep ocean. Until half disappeared into the surrounding darkness and a glowing haze seemed to glare at him, forcing the young man to cover his face with his sleeved arm, the large jacket that he’d had since the beginning of adulthood managed to block the majority, but still, he couldn’t help but peer over the top. Then when the lightness changed and a figure, a black silhouette began to form in the light, he couldn’t help but stare. Appearing like a god as it grew. The shapes building up, forming another man. His side profile was distinguishable and his heart dropped to his heels with the realisation. Eddie.

Sweat trickled down his forehead and the back of his neck. Richie woke up, rubbing at his eyes. He had been crying again. These dreams, these stupid, cruel dreams haunted him almost everynight. He prayed for them to stop, even considered therapy but decided against it due to this one thought. This one repeating thought that these dreams were the only thing he had left, the only way of seeing him again. Seeing his Eddie again. He didn’t care that sometimes he would appear as a young boy or that his face would be so distorted that Richie would have to squint to recognise him, he didn’t care because he wanted to see him, he’d do anything for just one last glimpse at him, see his soft features, his dazzling eyes, his smile.

Richie was struggling. It wasn’t something he kept quiet either. He’d told Beverly first, thinking she’d understand, and she did-she does but it just doesn’t feel right. He consoled with Bill thinking he’d give Richie advice like he usually would but all he told poor Richie was that ‘they will end, you just have to hang in there.’ So that’s what he did, for a month or so. He stopped telling the others about these dreams and started drinking more. That helped. That cleared his mind for awhile but then it all came flooding back and he found himself waking up at three in the morning with uncontrollable tears streaming down his face. He’d started smoking again, feeling the smoke swirl in his chest was somewhat comforting but still, he felt lost. Suicide came next, he was close to that. Morbidly planning how he would go and when and his letter. But just when he had his plan down to the last point, it all fell through with Mike becoming suspicious of Richie. He suddenly started offering to buy the Losers lunch. He’d never done that before, nor had he ever considered charity work, but there he was, working with one of the charities he saw online. Then when he stopped cracking as many jokes, Mike knew something was up. He didn’t tell the Losers just in case he was wrong, he didn’t want to cause any unnecessary stress. But when it came to eight o’clock one evening and Richie wasn’t responding to messages from Mike which was unusual as Richie was attached to his phone so it was rare he wouldn’t reply. Mike took the initiative to drive out to Richie’s apartment in the pouring rain.  
“Richie!” Mike hadn’t even bothered knocking on the door, he feared he’d waste time. Instead he kicked in the door. He did then feel awfully terrible when he found Richie sitting in his armchair, beer in one hand, a pen in the other and a sheet of paper on the pop up table in front of him. He had been crying, his glasses weren’t even on his face, they had been tossed onto the carpet in frustration. His brian wouldn’t think and he couldn’t, for the life of him, put words onto paper. He ended up crying into Mike’s arms for the majority of the night. Mike listened to Richie, he listened to the retellings of Richie’s vivid dreams and comforted him the best he could. Mike never saw himself as one for comforting but after that night, he always kept a silent eye on Richie. Just in case. 

A week had passed since that night, since Mike comforted Richie and they talked and drank beers and Richie had felt better. He hadn’t dreamt of Eddie as much as he had before and the dreams he had now were only memories. But Richie could never get a break, no the poor boy was now facing him. Or a version of him in the supermarket. He knew the man before him wasn’t actually there but he looked so real. Richie could have just reached out, touched his cheek and he would have felt soft, warm flesh. But he couldn’t. He only felt the shelf behind which was occupied with lines of tins and at that moment a rush of emotion flowed over him. Richie could see Eddie, his eyes so clear and bright, not the dull, lifeless ones they were before. But he wasn’t there. Richie had to force himself to look down at his feet. Not to look up until he stopped crying, but he couldn’t and ended up dropping his basket then and there and rushing out. Rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket under his thick rimmed glasses, He managed to make it back to his car before he let out a wail of pain. Those eyes were plastered in his head, he couldn’t get them out. He saw the bright glow they had when he was a boy and he saw their glow when they all first reunited. Richie saw his smile, the faint splatter of freckles over his nose and cheeks. Richie lay forward on his wheel, his hands crossed over on the top as he rested his head, looking down at his lap, seeing the tears fall down and splatter his trousers and the saliva seeping from his lips as he cried. He remained there for a while. He looked up at the sky which was changing from a golden afternoon to a pink-red sunset. He began to drive home, sniffling as he steered his car into the car park of his apartment set up and staring at nothing in particular as he walked up the stairs and into his flat.  
“Where have you been?” A voice called from the kitchen, Richie’s eyes shot up to see him again. He wore an apron around his waist like he always did when he cooked, and his hair was neatly combed like it always was.  
“You’re not real.” Richie met eyes with the other, standing in his doorway. He wore a blank expression as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.  
“What do you mean I’m not real? I’m right here.” Eddie replied, turning to face the counter where he appeared to be chopping a carrot.  
“Eddie you’re d-dead.” Richie said more to himself than anyone else. But when Eddie froze, dropping the knife and turning to face the man, Richie felt his heart rate increase. Confident footsteps made their way closer to Richie. The shuffling of socked feet against the carpet. Richie’s legs felt like noodles, he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to stand alone. Eddie’s gentle smile was enough to cause Richie’s knees to buckle but something was keeping him up. Like strings to a puppet, Richie remained standing. The shuffling of feet paused when Eddie was only a few centimeters away from Richie. His breath running down Richie’s spine and causing him to shiver.  
“I’m here to ask you a question.” Eddie told him, whispering in his ear. Almost seductively and as much as Richie wanted to lean away from the gesture, his back was solid, there was no movement whatsoever.  
“A question?” Richie repeated, turning his head slightly to glance at Eddie who leaned back to stand straight, his hands neatly tucked behind his back while the apron remained tightly pulled around his waist.  
“What do you want, Rich? Why do you wish to die?” Eddie said with pure curiosity. Of course he wasn’t real so maybe his feelings weren’t real but they were convincing and Richie couldn’t help but open up to him.  
“I want you to come back to me, Ed’s. Please I just want you to be here.” Richie’s knees finally gave in, causing the man to fall to the ground in a pile of limbs. Tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping off his stubbly chin and onto the ground. Eddie bent down to meet his eyes but Richie refused to look up, afraid of what that tender look would do to him. A small hand rested on Richie’s shoulder, the comforting warmth instantly calming Richie down.  
“I would never leave you, Rich.”  
***  
“Hey, Eddie?” Richie, the unruly teenager turned to face the younger boy. Bright, neon funfair lights danced behind him, casting a glow on the taller boy’s pale face. Eddie, who had been dragged along to this event, watched as Richie smiled down at him. Their height difference was nothing extreme but Richie always made fun of him for being a tiny bit smaller.  
“Yeah?” Eddie replied, fixing his dark eyes on the pair behind bottle coke glasses.  
“Can we go in that mirror maze?” Richie asked with that dorky smile he always wore when he wanted something.  
“Umm...do we have to?” Eddie responded, scrunching his eyebrows slightly and shuffling his foot from side to side.  
“No but...it looks really fun!” Richie told him. It didn’t look half bad. There were bright colours and a fast flow of people entering.  
“I don’t know, Rich.” Eddie challenged. But after watching Richie’s lips pursed together in an awkward smile. Eddie sighed and nodded.  
“Ok, but hold my hand...I don’t want to get left behind.” Eddie shuffled forward slightly and held out a gentle arm. The watch attached to his left hand read seven-thirty. He told his mother he would be back by half eight. Nonetheless the two walked in, hand in hand as they were encased in another universe. The panes of mirror, duplicating the two boys three or four times. Instantly confusing the both of them. Richie began to take a step forward, reaching out with his free hand. He looked ridiculous and Eddie began to giggle. But Richie didn’t stop, he nudged his way forward, spreading his legs until he looked like a crab with his arm fully stretched out. He began to pat the sides of him, feeling the mirrors until he was certain of the way to go. So the two headed in that direction, taking slow, unsure steps. On multiple occasions Richie slammed into the mirrors, causing a loud vibration and the mirrors began to shake. Although Eddie did find this rather amusing until he, himself walked into one of the deadly objects. Bumping his nose and causing a red mark to form. And then a second time when he had to use both hands to feel his way. It was like being confined to a box, feeling the cold, smeared surfaces beneath their fingers until Eddie found a gap.  
“This way!” Eddie called out to Richie who currently had his back turned. Eddie didn’t hesitate before walking into the next section. Leaving the curly haired boy behind.  
“Eddie?” Richie tuned, expecting to see Eddie with an arm stretched out, ready for Richie to take. But instead all he saw was himself, five times.  
“Eddie? Eddie! Eddieee!” Richie spoke out to the mirrors, spinning in circles like one of those spinning tops you got given from a Christmas cracker until his legs disobeyed him and he ended on the floor. It was oddly quiet, like no one else was even here. Richie planted his face in his palms, the glasses jolting on top of his fingers.  
“Richie?” Then there was the sound of a comforting voice, the sun on a cold day, the warming voice of Eddie Kaspbrak, whose hair somehow managed to remain perfect. Then his voice came again, this time slightly louder.  
“Oh, Richie!” Eddie rushed to his side, swinging a thin arm over the other boy's shoulder. Richie instantly leaned into the warmth. He felt a tear fall down his cheek. He knew he was being dramatic but everything just came crashing down in a heart shattering flow of emotion.  
“I-I thought you left me.” Richie looked up, meeting Eddie’s concerned eyes.  
“I would never leave you, Rich.” And with that, Eddie encased the boy wearing a Hawaiian shirt in a tight, reassuring hug. Holding him close to his chest. Near enough for Richie to hear his solid heartbeat.  
***  
Hot tears continued to run down his cheeks, racing until they fell off his chin and onto the floor. Eddie was still there, his thumb resting under Richie’s chin as he sat on his heels.  
“There’s so much I couldn’t tell you, Ed’s.” Richie cried, his chin was forced up by Eddie. Richie’s glasses were smeared and his hair was a mess.  
“Then tell me.” Eddie offered but Richie just shook his head.  
“What’s the point...you’re dead!” Richie continued to cry, the tears not making any effort to slow down. Eddie looked at him with pity. Cupping the older man’s dripping cheeks with his own pale hands, obliging Richie to look him in the eye.  
“It doesn’t matter if I’m dead or alive, I’m here with you now aren’t I?” Eddie watched him with caring eyes. His head tilted to the side to get a better view at Richie’s glossy eyes. The crying had slowed down to a weak sob. Richie nodded and took a deep needed breath.  
“Eddie, I…” He tried to speak but the words were just throbbing ideas in his throat. He felt like he was about to vomit, maybe that would help.  
“I’m gonna be sick.” He covered his mouth while he stumbled to his feet and began to rush to the sink where pots and pans lay neatly lined up, washed and now drying. He leant over the sink, arms stretched out and gripping to the sides as he felt the warm liquid bubble up his throat. There were still traces of tears rolling down his cheeks but now all he could focus on was the wretched feeling in his throat and stomach.  
“Richie, just tell me!” Eddie whined by the side of him. Feeling his tense back and rubbing the centre with a gentle palm.  
“Eddie. Not now.” Richie snapped. He didn’t mean to but everything was spinning and he felt like his guts were in his throat or his heart in his ass, he couldn’t tell but either way, Richie couldn’t tell him.  
“Richie...I’m sorry.” Eddie apologised, only for Richie to see his body begin to fade. Slowly disappearing into nothing. His feet had completely gone before Richie could even say anything.  
“Eddie?” His legs were entirely missing, leaving his torso and outstretched arms, reaching for Richie to hold. He tried to grab them, tried to cling on as the man faded. But his hands went straight through like at the shop. Richie’s hands moved quickly, still trying to hold on to every last bit of Eddie.  
“Eddie!” Richie screamed. Watching as the love of his life...not that Eddie knew that, disappear. Again. Leaving Richie in his kitchen, the feeling of nausea was still there and sweat was dripping from his forehead. Carrots still remained on the side, neatly diced, as were the other vegetables. He guessed Eddie, or whatever that was to be making a vegetable soup. His mind was taken back when his throat finally gave in and he was vomiting in the sink. Tears seeping from his tightly shut eyes as the hot liquid flowed out of him. Once that was done, Richie fell to the floor. His back against the cabinets below the sink as he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket.  
“Fuck…” Richie sighed, leaning his head against the wood.  
“Fuck!” He yelled, sitting straight then crashing back against the cabinet. Causing his face to twinge in pain. 

That night, a glow creeped in through his bedroom door. Richie was asleep, he was exhausted and his entire body ached. However he sprung awake when he saw the light. He was so sure it was another dream but everything looked so real. Maybe he was lucid dreaming. But he could feel everything, he could feel his white t-shirt clinging to his body, he could feel the long boxers wrapped around his legs and he could feel the mattress he had saved up for below him. He began to sit up, to face the light. It was like that dream he had before but there was no black room, he was in his bedroom. However the light was deformed with a shadow, a silhouette. Was it Eddie again?  
“Eddie?” Richie asked out to the golden light. Reaching out his arm to feel for his glasses, quickly finding them and shoving the lenses onto his face.  
“Richie. Can you tell me now?” Eddie asked, his voice so quiet and innocent.  
“I don’t think you want to hear it.” Richie replied, looking down at his hands that were fiddling with the edge of the duvet covers.  
“I do! I really do!” He sounded like a child, his face began to show through the silhouette and Richie could actually see him. He could see the young man once again, standing right before him. Richie hesitated for a moment before swinging his legs out of bed and sitting on the edge.  
“Ok.” Richie sighed, waiting for Eddie to sit next to him which eventually he did.  
“I should have told you this a long time ago. I just...I was scared. I still am but I fear if I don’t say anything...it will kill me.” Richie revealed. Feeling his heartbeat increase to the point where he felt sick again. But this time, he was going to confess to Eddie. Or a version of him anyway,  
“I love you, Eddie.” Richie confessed. Telling Eddie this made his cheeks swell with heat and caused his voice to become thick and uneasy.  
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear.” Eddie responded, meeting Richie’s eyes and smiling. Richie’s face lit up; everything felt different. His eyes didn’t feel that heaviness they always had, his smile didn’t feel fake and his heart felt weirdly good. Another thing that felt different, was the sudden urge to kiss Eddie. He wasn’t expecting much, he thought he’d wake up and everything would go back to how it was or he’d simply fall through Eddie but no, his lips felt Eddie’s. They were moving in time with one another and it was as if Richie was actually kissing Eddie. His eyes began to flutter open, wanting to check that he was still there, he was. Most of him was anyway, his lower half was slowly vanishing but it didn’t feel morbid like it did before, it didn’t feel like his world was being ripped from him. It felt more like a final goodbye. A final thank you for being here and a final kiss. Richie held Eddie’s cheek for a moment, feeling the warm skin as Eddie leaned into his touch. Richie watched as his body became transparent and slowly disappeared into the room.  
“I love you, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie said for the last time.  
“I love you too. And don’t call me that.” Eddie replied, only a fragment of his face remained. His smile. Eventually he disappeared and Richie was left, alone. But he didn’t feel lonely, in fact he felt rather surrounded. Surrounded by the memories of his lover, Eddie Kaspbrak.


End file.
